Slipping Away
by BananaPieThiefX
Summary: ...I don’t want to admit it, but I’m afraid. Not of death, or what comes after, but of dying, and of those I will leave behind.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: **I know I have a zillion unfinished stories on here. But blame the evil plot bunny for this one. Its also pretty much my first angst story, soooo enjoy....

**Disclaimer: **I've written over ten stories and guess what? I still own nothing!

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I hate it. I hate the way they look at me. It makes me feel guilty, almost as if I _chose _to get sick. I didn't and they know it. But that doesn't stop the looks. Sometimes, I just wish I had never told them, although the effort of keeping such a huge secret would soon exhaust me. Mostly, I'm just ready to leave it all behind, and that may be why I feel so guilty. Dying can't be as bad as being treated like a fragile china doll, but I hate wishing the end of my existence on those closest to me. My best friend is trying his best to pretend the sickness isn't here, but its fake and I can't stand it. I'm sure he'd hate being babied like this if it were him.

I used to love that he almost never left my side. Yesterday though, I yelled at him. I told him to go away, if a bit more colorfully. He was hurt deeply, I could tell, but I think it affected me more than him. This disease is turning me into a monster. And I don't want to admit it, but I'm afraid. Not of death, or what comes after, but of dying, and of those I will leave behind. Abigail heard me yelling and says I need to talk to him, but I can't bear it. Every conversation I have with them now is short and awkward. When I first found out about the cancer, I decided I'd try to live life to the fullest and hope for a stroke of luck. Instead, I'm confined to the house by their stares, and they worry if I leave. I am not helpless, so why do they treat me like I am? And so far, nothing's working for me. I guess between Cibola and the Templar Treasure, I've had enough luck for one short lifetime.

The bell on the coffee shop's door dings softly. I look up and groan. He followed me here! Why does he care so much? If he wants to help me, he needs to leave me alone. The sympathy is a constant reminder of my looming demise. His concerned eyes scan the shop. I try to sink down in my seat, become invisible. It doesn't work, and I notice how the man's eyes light up as he sees me alone in the dark corner. I tear my gaze away as he makes his way to the table and sits across form me. I don't look back up. Why should I? Instead, I sip some coffee, keeping my head down and waiting for the accusatory statement about my earlier behavior. It surprisingly doesn't come. I want to talk to him, to apologize so badly, but I can't. Instead he sighs, shakes his head, mutters something that sounds a lot like my name, and goes for the counter. I know exactly what he will order.

"Grande Strawberries and Crème," he says, as I've heard him do a million times before. He hates coffee, I've never know why, and I don't suppose I ever will now. He returns and reclaims his seat. How strange we must look, two people sitting here, not talking, not looking at each other, inside a lively coffee shop full of normal people with normal lives. I hear a long slurping sound. Suddenly, he collapses to the floor. He's lying there, clutching at his head, and no one else notices. I gasp and spring up.

"B-b-Brain Freeze!" my friend moans. I release an involuntary chuckle, relieved that he's just doing a brain freeze act like usual.

"Can't freeze it if you don't have it," I respond. As always.

He looks at me guiltily as I help him up, and I wonder why, but pass it off as our strained friendship over the past weeks. "Ben…" he says hesitantly. I'm ready to throw my arm around him and tell him it will be okay, as if he was the dying one. "Abi's pregnant," he blurts. I slowly feel consciousness slipping away with my last remnants of calm, and my world crashes down before me.

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**AN: **So... how much did you read before you guessed it was _Ben_ who was sick and not Riley?


	2. Chapter 2

**AN:** Guess who updated!!! Now, read review enjoy! ((Yeah, I changed tenses. So SUE me! (yes, I did have caffine today...) )) Actually the tense change is important. When Ben is reflecting the day's events, it's told like this. When he is telling the story as it happens, it's more like the first chapter.

**Disclaimer: **I was kidding there... please don't sue me.

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I slowly opened my eyes. Confusion was all I felt. I didn't know where I was, yet I felt I had been here before. All I really wanted was to sink back into the abyss of my subconscious mind. I didn't even know why. Was I dead? Cancer, yes I remember cancer. Was that was had caused this? Then I saw him. He was sitting in the driver's seat of a car. _My _car. Though I was thankful I was not dead, I wondered why he was sitting in my car, fiddling with my radio, mumbling the random letters 'XM'. Riley must have heard me or had some kind of sixth sense, because he immediately turned around and looked at me in the back seat. He shook his head, and I could see that he was making a great effort not to smile.

"Well, well," he said. "Imagine the headlines. 'Treasure Hunter Benjamin Gates Faints in Local Starbucks! Overdose of Caffeine to Blame?' I swear, Ben, they're going to worry about a lawsuit from you for months!"

"That makes aboulutely no sense," I said dully. I groaned as I tried to sit up.

"And if it did, would you find it in our media?" he retorted. He wasn't even looking that concerned, as he always had been these days.

I wondered why he was being so… so normal. Well, maybe not _normal_ per se, but normal for him. No hovering, still trying to find a station worth listening to. Then, suddenly, I began to remember everything. Starbucks, I had passed out at Starbucks after… The revelation made me feel dizzy and lightheaded again. "Why didn't _she_ tell me," I asked softly, almost darkly.

"I was uh… hoping to um, avoid that subject," Riley dodged.

"Why?" I growled. Riley wisely realized it was not a question.

"See, she uh... she," A glare from me, "She didn't want you to know," He admitted. My thoughts shattered. I heard my best friend's voice from very far away. "She didn't want to upset you…"

"I have a right to know!!" I thundered.

"Why do you think I told you?" he said. It was hard to tell from his voice, but he was hurt. Again. Our friendship was slipping away, and it was all my fault.

"You're right," I sighed. "Sorry." There was so much in that small 5-letter word. Amazingly, he seemed to understand it all.

"I know," he said. He was looking at me, not with concern, not sympathy, but as if he was trying to figure something out.

"So… how long have you known?"

"Since yesterday," he said quietly. I was going to tell you, but… you uh… asked me to leave…"

"That's a polite way of putting it," I muttered. I'm not sure Abigail will ever forgive me for throwing that antique lamp at the door.

"Ben, you're stressed, I get it. It's okay." I looked up and tried to smile.

"Do you think you can drive? I don't want to leave the Ferrari here," he asked, holding out my keys.

"Yeah," I responded. I grabbed them from him but did not rise. I felt tired, no exausted was a better word. "I'm going to talk to Abi. Do you mind… not coming? We need to be alone."

"That's cool. I've got shopping to do anyway."

"Shopping? You hate shopping."

"It's Christmas next month Ben. And I'm not stupid enough to go shopping on Black Friday. No thanks." He opened the front door and got out. He opened the back door for me as well. "Rise and shine now," he ordered.

"Be careful driving," I said, shaking my head.

"Please, like I'd risk the Ferrari." This time I actually did smile. "You too," he said.

"Yeah, sure."

"_Ben_." He was staring me down (something he couldn't do had I not been sprawled in the backseat) like a mother looking at her child whose just been coloring on the wall.

"I'll be careful Riley, I promise," I said sincerely.

"Much better," he deemed, satisfied now. I regretfully heaved myself out of the backseat and slid into the driver's. As I drove away, I thought I saw Riley's concerned face in my side mirror, but I was probably imagining it. I gassed the car and drove to the house almost robotically. My mind was elsewhere, but I wasn't thinking. I felt… detached, apart from the world. It felt as if no time at all had passed when I pulled in to the driveway of the mansion. _"You know, we choose this estate because in 1812 Charles Caroll…" _How stupid that seemed now. The bright sunlight mocked me from above as I exited the car. Abigail rushed out to meet me. Still far away, I clutched her tightly, wondering why she was… oh, right.

"Riley called, he said you had fainted, I was so worried!" she exclaimed.

"Mmmhmm." I sighed. "Abigail?" she looked up at me, "we need to talk."

"Talk, Ben?" she asked, playing innocent.

I couldn't do this, no, it hurt too much, but I had to. "He told me, Abigail. Riley told me everything." I was trying not to break down crying in front of my wife. I don't think I had cried in at least twenty-five years.

Abigail looked at me, as though she was contemplating something. Finally, she smiled. "What do think of the name Jeanette?"

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